Refuge
by Sweet Namaste
Summary: Mirai Trunks has returned to the future, with a different plan in mind; harness the androids, instead of destroying them. He defeats cell, and life continues on for Earth, now left with the battlescars of destruction. But when the refugee from a nearby galaxy appears, how long will peace reign over the Earth? T for now, possible M rating later. No set pairings, yet. In progress :3
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is re-done, as well as the first chapter! I took a lot into consideration as to what you guys said, and I hope that this is a little more to your liking. If I'm lucky, the 3rd chapter will be up tonight, too :D**

**Happy reading!**

**PROLOGUE**

"The data you have on me is incorrect." The young Saiyan spoke, his voice laden with spite. Oh, how it irritated 18 to her core hearing him speak that way, to her of all people! This little whelp, which they had on so many occasions crushed beneath them, now challenged their reign over the begotten city. _I should have killed him when I had the chance._ She thought coldly. _No more games. Trunks, the last Saiyan. Squashed like a bug.  
><em>The thought offered her little comfort as she straightened the hem of her denim skirt, tucked some golden locks behind her ear by habit, and trained her bright blue eyes on him. He did look different, didn't he?

It seemed realization had smacked her in the face, as it had her brother moments earlier, for he too was silent. She looked back at him, seeing shock in his eyes. Yes, he's noticed it too; his already sharp facial features had become more defined, and he seemed older, more rigid, as if puberty had his way with him. Oh, and all of his new muscle that tensed beneath his tanned skin, something that caught her attention momentarily. But how was that possible?

"Well, what do you think, sis?" 17's hollow voice rang out over the empty buildings and rubble. The blonde looked at her twin, brows furrowed in thought.

"Let's get rid of him." Despite the doubt that rumbled within her stomach, her voice was cool and even. Dead.  
>She fought back a cringe as he nodded, the corners of his lips rising slowly. I'm not sure either, sis. She could practically hear his words in her head just by looking at him.<p>

Twins. Whatever part of them that was human somehow managed to retain their mental connection.

With the bat of an eyelash, 18 rushed forward, sending a right hook straight for the Saiyan's jaw. Just shy of connecting, he vanished, and reappeared behind her with a small snicker. _Did that really just happen?!_ Swinging her body around, she opened her palm to his face, feeling the pink ball of energy swirl from her fingers. It was more than sufficient to take him out, she was sure. A grin crossed her face, but quickly faded as he reappeared in front of her.

_No. He can't be that fast. There's no way..._

17 joined her now, face twisted into rage. "You'll die, boy!" He growled, before joining his sister in a flurry of attacks. A few of them landed, but had no effect as he easily swiped their fists and feet to the side despite using their full strength. Things had definitely changed, as before, they would have needed no more than half. Now it seemed Trunks had far more speed, and far more strength; he made a show of it, landing a single punch within her brother's gut. His cerulean eyes, the same color as his sister's, grew wide with pain and a moan passed through his lips. Trunks simply tossed him to the rubble, before appearing beside her. She panted with her efforts, still looking at 17 lying in a crumpled pile on the ground.

"I'm going to win, and there's nothing you can do about it." There was no edge of cockiness to the young Saiyan's gravelled voice, but pity. _Pity?_ For her? Fear nibbled harder at her insides, causing her to panic. 18 raised both of her hands and pushed them together, using as much power as she could muster into the ball of light.

Her eyes grew wide. All he did was tilt his head to the side slightly, not even grazing a single hair with her efforts. Her brother, slowly recovering, appeared at her side. "Any ideas?" He asked, a hand holding his gut and his eyes watering slightly. She racked her brain, but found it oddly empty. Maybe they could run? It seemed cowardly, but they could try again...

As Trunks began his advance, they found themselves backed against a building. It was oddly gratifying for Trunks, who had now begun his advance to manhood, turning these two predators into prey. Part of him just wanted to end the whole thing, to erase them from existence. They had destroyed everything, taken everything away from him mercilessly. They pillaged the Earth, taking what they wanted, killing who they wanted, without remorse. It seemed they were dead inside. Twisted in anger, he began to think of the things he had lost; his father, his friends, his childhood…

The image of his mother's face returned to him, and his rage dissipated within him. His hair returned to its normal hue, and the aura of his Ki diminished. Trunks did in fact have a mission to do, and he reminded himself of it.

_Everyone deserves a second chance_. His mother's words rang in his head like a bell. _Remember, your father wasn't the nicest man, either. But there was still some good in him, somewhere._ A hand reached into his pocket, pulling out a small remote.

"Even though you deserve it, I'm not going to kill you today." The boy began, to the androids' amazement. 18 couldn't imagine it, the idea of mercy. Not after what she'd done, what her brother had done. Despite her cold nature, part of her could remember emotion. She could remember what loss, what pain, what fear felt like. That part of her sympathised; perhaps she should die. Maybe she should suffer for her sins.

Maybe she could be saved.

"But why?" Her brother questioned, blurting his response like a scared child, which was unlike him. It only caused her more fear, which now caused the hairs to stand on the back of her neck. _What a silly reaction._ 17 seemed to read his sister's mind; they had destroyed **everything** he loved. And they felt nothing over it, no remorse.

Well, she felt a little bit.

Trunks' thumb smoothed over the large red button's surface, not yet depressing it. He didn't want to deactivate them, not yet. Part of him needed this, to say these things. It was like finding closure.

"Because, I've seen what happens to you. It's kind of pitiful, actually," He began, eyes no longer on them. Instead, it rested on the remote in his hand, lost within his memories of his trip to the past. "And I've seen you do good things, too. You're part human; I know you can feel."

The two bots had no idea what he could possibly be talking about; what had he seen? Where? How did he know, when they'd destroyed Gero's lab? It didn't really make any sense, but they listened nonetheless, without moving an inch. It could be a trap, a ploy. She searched, with her eyes, some route of escape as impending doom closed in on her.

"And honestly," Trunks said, after a few moments of silence. A sly smile crossed his face. "You're better to me this way."

Before 18 could respond, her features already twisted into confusion, the young Saiyan thumbed the button. Their bodies sagged to the floor, a strange, placid look over their faces. If Trunks hadn't known any better, he'd almost have sworn they were dolls; so perfect, so emotionless, so empty looking now. But he knew better. He knew the destruction and suffering they had brought onto the Earth.

But it wasn't their fault. He had to remember that.

A sigh escaped him, one of relief, and of sadness.

He had finally won.

_But at what cost?_

His brain didn't dare think of it any of it now. No, now he would take these two creatures to his mother, and the two of them would celebrate their bittersweet victory. They would discuss how to salvage the future.

Slinging their lifeless bodies over his shoulders – which had thankfully broadened during his training – he shot into the air like a rocket, a sense of calm overtaking him.


	2. Hero's Return

**A/N: Okay, so I know I didn't clear too much about the past few months in their time. Don't worry, there will be some flashbacks and some gap-filling in the next few chapters. I realized that there was a LOT of detail lacking here, probably making things confusing. So, hopefully this helps. Kind of a filler/explanation chapter.**

**Next chapter gets exciting! I wanted to get into it early, because DBZ tends to move quickly from villain to villain. And so is the same here. And I took some advice - 17 and 18 have been training with Trunks, and have improved their skills, as the Mirai 17&18 were weaker than the Main Timeline 17&18. So yeh.**

**Let me know how you like it :3**

**ONE**

"You need to go back, Trunks." The cool voice of 18 informed the young Saiyan, who was fresh home from a successful journey back. He couldn't even fathom what she was saying; go back? Everything was finally in it's place. His mother had managed to erase the programming that controlled their malicious, sadistic tendencies, and they had found a place within the Brief's home as his mother's assistants, a small penance for their free-will. 17 had a knack for electronics, while 18 tended to anything Bulma could come up with, which worked out well for all three of them.

"What do you mean? I just got here!" He questioned, through the forkfuls of food he'd managed to wolf down. Trunks hadn't eaten before he left, and had been absolutely starving. Thankfully, Bulma had anticipated as much; a large, warm dinner awaited him when he entered the newly remodeled house. 17 and 18 had been more than useful over the past few months, helping he and his mother rebuild the things they had destroyed, which included their Capsule Corp. home. Anywhere they had brought violence and death, they had gone back and repaired hospitals, schools, houses...anything that they could. And within the three months they had been reactivated, things were finally settling down.

"If you're trying to bring anyone back," She began, catching his arm before he could shovel in another bite. "Which I'm sure you are, you'll need them. And the only way to get them is to go back." At this, 18 let go, sitting down across from him and flipping golden locks over her shoulder. He admired momentarily, sunlight entering from the window behind her like a sheath of light. She could've been an angel; a half smile fell on his lips involuntarily.  
>Of course, their attitudes really hadn't changed; when his mother had reactivated them, the evil programming and unmentionables aside, they had almost seemed grateful. The twins had worked hard, even training with Trunks to try and repair Earth's defenses. While 18 was mediocre with household chores, she was a devil in the battlefield. He enjoyed training with her, the ferocity and intensity of her strikes always baffling him.<p>

Now, however, they were back to their usual selves. Although, he had to admit, on more than one occasion he'd found 18 in their garden, singing softly to the sun and the plants while she worked away on Bulma's task list. He'd admire, for a little while, before she'd catch him and bring back her callous nature.

But he knew differently. She seemed lost, still trying to regain parts of herself after the hell that was being Dr. Gero's slave. He'd thought he'd heard her crying once, late at night. Apologizing, self-loathing...and a vow. A vow to do better.  
>And so far, she did.<p>

"It doesn't work like that, 18. I created a whole new timeline…a new chain of events. Their future isn't going to be the same as this one. It'd be like wishing on a different dimension - it simply won't work. And how do you know I've been trying?" The bite she'd caught in his hand scooped into his mouth, but he chewed slowly, in thought. The android had been right about one thing; he wanted his family, his friends back. Desperately. And over the past few months, he'd thought of every possible alternative, exhausting all of his resources to find a way. But so far, nothing had turned up, and it left an awful taste in his mouth.

"Well then, looks like I'm out of ideas." Arms folded over her chest, and she stared out the window, a look of distaste crossing her face. "And because, you talk in your sleep. Loudly." He could see her fighting off the hints of a smile. _Ah, yes. The charade that is the Android._ He let his mind wander; without the programming, she would be just a person, right? Essentially human. His mind ran in circles, and he shook his head lightly, causing lavender strands of hair to fall into his eyes. With a sigh, he scooted his chair across the floor and dropped the fork down onto the plate.

"Me too. I think for now, though, we should stay focused. There's a lot to do, a lot to fix. And a company to run." The plate, which was only half eaten, was abandoned as Trunks exited the small room. His heart swelled a little, thinking back to the past. The time he had spent with his father, with everyone, was more than he could have hoped for, even now. The steps down to the basement, where his mother had busied herself, thudded beneath his heavy feet.

Behind him, 18 watched his brutish frame disappear into the darkness. Guilt overtook her momentarily; like most of her feelings, though, it soon passed, and she focused her attentions onto other things. One could sit there and sulk, or make themselves useful, and she was the useful type. "I'll bring them back," She whispered, staring out the window again. "I owe you that much."

As he arrived at the bottom of the stairs, the familiar smells of his mothers floral perfume blended with oil and grease hit him. He'd always loved it here, where she worked; when he was little he would sit on the bench, pretending to hammer things and create silly little toys out of scrap parts. He spotted her now as she hummed to herself, hands busily reassembling some sort of gadget. It fizzled and popped, then sprang to life with a plume of smoke.

"Ha! I did it! Did I ever tell you your mom's a genius, Trunks?" Her aqua eyes fell upon her son, who now stood by her side. Ruby red lips pursed into a smile. It felt good for him to see her this way, with things returning to normal. She finally had the sparkle in her eye and the fire in her soul, all missing since her father's death. Of course at night he'd still listen to her sobs, the void where her friends and family had once been. Where his father had once been.

But during the day, Trunks would watch her scurry about the house, finding the tools and materials she needed to build some of her new designs. In these few months of peace and recuperation, along with the android's help, they had managed to repair all of West City. But for his mother, it wasn't good enough; she worked herself to the bone, creating new tools to help speed up the process and fix the world. To distract herself from her pain.

Trunks set a hand onto his mothers, smiling at her. "Yes, I think I remember you saying that." She laughed, turning away from the strange device that lay on her workbench. "Are you ready to eat something, too? You're going to disappear if you don't start eating more, and working a little less."

Bulma chuckled, pride in her son swelling. _I'll see him get married now._ She thought, resting a hip against the bench. Often she found herself thinking these things, her only salvation from the loss of nearly everyone she's known. But now was not the time for those thoughts. She'd save them for when she was alone, away from prying eyes. Sometimes she would confide in 17; he was a surprisingly nice boy, once you got to know him. Bulma seemed to be the only one he really took to in the house, even distancing himself from his twin. It broke her heart, as he was crumbling beneath the guilt and the emptiness he felt.

Bulma understood; to remember what you'd done under someone else's influence, to have been a human, had a soul, and be reduced to...parts. It was all confusing. Were his feelings really his own? Bulma tried to explain, tried to help, but she could only do so much. Maybe that's why she worked so hard, so tirelessly. The more 17 repaired, the more he seemed to smile.

"Well, I think you're right, son. My hands are sore, I stink like oil, and I could use some food." She then followed him up the stairs, sunlight washing over her milky complexion. It felt marvellous, as if she'd never felt it before. Had she really been working that hard?

"Why don't we eat outside, Trunks? We've been stuck inside for long enough, and it's starting to get really warm out there." As they topped the stairs, she offered 18 a friendly wave. "Hey, you and 17 want to come with? You could probably use a break, too." Bulma offered a wink, and was out of the room in a flash to get herself ready. It seemed they never did things like this anymore.

But they were going to start.


	3. Respects

**TWO**

It took a full hour for Bulma to shower and dress. _Some things never change..._ He thought, packing various items of food into containers. 17 helped him in silence; while they got along, Trunks had the feeling that the Android's manhood still hadn't recovered. All of their strength, their perfection - and yet there Trunks was, better by design. The boy could understand that sort of frustration.

"Much better!" Arriving in a pair of slacks and a simple red blouse, his mother entered the room with a large grin that touched her aqua eyes easily. "Oh wow, you even started packing! Best son in the world, I tell you what!" She planted a ruby kiss on her boy's cheek, causing Trunks to flush slightly. Rather than help, Bulma picked up a piece of fruit and munched on it thoughtfully as she leaned against the countertop, lost out in the sunshine that entered the room. Nostalgia swept over her face like wildfire, but she still managed to beam happiness. It was a relief.

"I was thinking, maybe we could go out to Goku's...pay respects." Trunks could tell his mother was hesitant about the suggestion; her words came out slowly and deliberately, with an edge of hope. "It's always beautiful this time of year out there. Everything's blooming - 17, 18, you'll have to come along. You simply can't miss it!"

How could he say no?

"Yeah, that's a great idea, mom." The Saiyan said, absently. His thoughts lingered on Gohan, and their last trip to the little mountain home they'd lived in. It was to bury his friend, his mentor. And older brother. He swallowed back the lump in his throat, managing to keep his composure. Bulma had hardly noticed her son's reaction, merely happy that he'd agreed to her suggestion. She then set herself to work, packing away food and finding the correct Capsules. Finally ready, his mother climbed into a small air craft, loaded with their supplies, while the other three took to the skies.

The sun felt spectacular on Trunks' skin, and he soared high above the others, black sleeveless shirt and jeans billowing slightly from his speed. The boy's muscular arms were exposed, soaking the sun's energy graciously. He loved to fly; the weightless feeling, coupled with the sun and the scenery, always left him with a goofy, childlike grin on his face. He could see 18 eye him from his peripherals, and allowed a smile to crease his lips without looking to her. Instead he looked behind him, to his mother and 17. The android flew closely to his mother's craft, as if protecting her. For a moment he felt mixed emotions, the protectiveness over his mother a bit irritating. Instead he ignored the feeling.

They arrived in a short amount of time, and he was stunned to silence as he descended upon the earth. Trunks could have been looking at a photograph; time seemed to be frozen here, looking exactly as it did before, despite the large volume of foliage that had taken over. All it was missing was a line of laundry and the sound of their former occupants. His gut filled with sadness, and while the other three began to set up, he found himself creeping into the old tattered home.

It seemed an intricate formation of ivy had covered most of the interior by now. All of the items, the knick knacks, remained in their rightful place. When they had all gone, he and his mother hadn't had the heart to remove anything or take anything. They left it, a monolith to their entire family. The boy took the space in slowly, eyes scanning each wall, before falling upon a framed picture. Goku, a goofy grin spread across his face, holding a young Gohan in his arms. To his other side sat Chi Chi, beaming at her two boys.

"I did it." Trunks whispered, reaching a tentative hand towards the photo. "I wish you were here to see it." As his hand contacted the frame, he attempted to remove some of the ivy that had laid a path overtop of it. To his surprise, the vine recoiled and curled into a tight spiral, right before his eyes. He let out a small gasp, eyes wide.

_Normal plants don't do that, dude._ He thought to himself, leaning in closer to examine the foliage that had just avoided his touch. Upon further inspection, he noticed it was...pulsating, ever so slightly. All of the ivy was.

For a moment, the Saiyan considered calling his mother, then fell short. _No, not a good idea. _With his luck, he figured, something dangerous would present itself and he'd have put his mother at risk. Instead he powered up, sensing the faint Ki that resided in the distance. He crept forward now, deeper into the home; at Gohan's door, the plant had become so thick he couldn't even see the wall. It was like a green beast, waiting to swallow him up. His eyebrows crashed downwards, although one side of his smile tipped up at the silly thought.

Trunks forced the door open and stepped inside, carefully avoiding the strange plant that had now caught his attention. On the floor, in the middle of the room, lie a woman - or, at least the hourglass silhouette of a woman, that he was quite sure - on her back, the tendrils of ivy seeping from her fingertips. He felt himself tense, nearly shifting to ascended form. A few minutes rolled by, however, and the creature didn't stir. _Their Ki...they're dying._

He could feel it now, how little their life force really was. Pity swept over him momentarily, and he studied her while she lay there, eyes closed. She was thin, almost fragile looking, with smooth looking skin in a faint, sickly olive hue. Her impossibly long hair, blood red like roses, fanned around her like a halo, set into snug little ringlets that shone even in the dull light within Gohan's room. There was a soft scent of spring that seemed to hover around her, and it drew him in, his brain growing slightly hazy. His eyes drew towards her most intimate, plump areas, scantily clad in thin leafy vines. The gentleman in Trunks begged him to look away, but he found himself mesmerized. She was beautiful, despite being so...alien.

But who was he to say anything?

Finally his mind returned to him and the young man knelt down next to her, only now noticing the clear fluid leaking from the puncture wound in her abdomen. _Shit._ He thought, quickly. _She's dying. _While there was no guarantee the creature was good or bad in nature, Trunks felt more than obliged to help her - albeit his attraction helped. Something about her face, her features, seemed angelic and innocent. He made up his mind, racing towards the others.

"...been super productive this year. I've never seen cucumbers so big!" Bulma finished, before following 18's bewildered gaze to her son, who's eyes were wide in panic.

"What's wrong?" 17 asked from his left, brushing dirt from his hands. He strolled over to the boy, who wasted no time in explaining.

"No, nothing like that. Or, at least I think." He took a quick breath before continuing. "There's a girl...or, well, I don't know. But she's hurt. She's dying." The Saiyan struggled for the correct words, failing to find them. 17 ushered him forward, 18 following in his wake.

"Just hang on, Bulma." The blonde called over her shoulder before disappearing into the building. After a few moments, 18 returned, waving her inside. Bulma followed into Gohan's room, before gasping excitedly.

"An alien." 17 remarked coolly as Bulma knelt beside him, examining - but not touching - the creature before her. Then she set to work, investigating and prodding and poking. 17, true to his nature, tore a piece of his shirt off and offered it to the woman."To investigate the liquid. Precautions." A warm smile spread across his lips, one that seemed genuine - truly a rare sight to see. Again uneasy feelings rose within him, but he turned his attention to the creature on the floor and ignored the whispers of worry in the back of his brain. His mother took the cloth and dipped it within the clear body fluid, smelling and examining. After about five minutes of inquiry, his mother stood and brushed off her slacks.

"Well, shes definitely not human. In fact, I don't even think she's a mammal of any sort." Bulma pointed to the tendrils that snaked away from her body, tracing them around the room. "See those? They're literally a part of her, you were right. And her skin feels like...rose petals. Leaves. Bark in some places, even. Whatever that clear stuff is, it's odorless; I'm assuming it's an exudate.* My personal and professional opinion, she's more like...well, a rose bush. That looks like the sticky clear stuff that plants excrete when they're cut. And she smells pretty good, too. But hey, that's just me." With that, she folded her arms over her chest and offered the group a triumphant grin.

"A...rosebush." He stared down at the woman, who's face twisted in pain slightly, with disbelief. "Well...what do we do? I mean, I don't know if she's friendly-" He was cut off abruptly.

"Plants like water and sunshine," 18 began, already kneeling down and snaking her arms beneath the creature on a whim. The tendrils began to recede from the walls back to their owner looking almost like serpents, at first shying from the android's artificial touch before enfolding themselves around her creamy skin. Her eyes grew wide momentarily, and Trunks could see goosebumps appearing on her flesh. There seemed to be something of a blush on her cheeks, and she stood up gruffly with the sagging creature in her able arms.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: * Exudate: A fluid that has exuded out of a tissue or its capillaries due to injury or inflammation.**


	4. Santaros

**A/N: A bit of a cliffhanger.**

**REWRITTEN, longer, less 'she.' Hopefully it makes a bit more sense...xD So sorry.**

**Enjoy!**

**THREE**

Warmth. Light.

These two things that were so simple, so easily accessible, were going to save her life. She was desperate for them, her body and mind beyond battered and beaten. Her every cell screamed, pleaded with the withdrawal that wracked her body, all to no avail. The window next to her sat in the shadows, mocking her in what little vision the creature had left as blackness edged it. _So close, and yet you're still going to die without them! Was it worth it? _It whispered in her ear, laced with poison.

They were right, she couldn't find them. In her state, she couldn't find anything; could she even remember how she got here anymore? The events that had lead up to this moment all seemed a blur, and the creature found herself wondering whether or not she was within a dream. The beatings, the escape, the trip here...It was possible, wasn't it? There was no more pain from any of the months of torture she'd endured, the injuries that would haunt her body, no thoughts within her head - only darkness. Maybe she was still there, maybe this really was a dream. _Oh, so sick of the dark._

Limbs, like wilted flowers, entangled themselves within the confines of the strange building she'd taken refuge in. The last of her life-force was being funneled into a last ditch effort, consciousness was no longer existent within her, the very essence of her being floating up, up, and away. She could feel it nibbling at her brain, taking more and more until there was nothing left. She was no longer a name, a body, an entity at all. Just...nothing. Perhaps they'd finally broken her. Perhaps they'd grown impatient and decided to kill her.

_How long has it been?_ The question rattled around within the emptiness for what seemed like an eternity, and when someone entered the room, she hadn't really registered. She could feel his presence, the heat that emanated off of his body, hear the softness of his breath; things that reside within the subconscious, where her mind now roamed, and so she paid no mind. It protested slightly, instead settling for a slight itch at the base of her skull. But there were other pressing matters, like the question at hand.

_How long?_ She heard more echoes, the only answer to her inquiry. Did it matter? In a few moments, she'd be dead anyways. She greeted it, welcomed it for so long, and yet it refused to take her. Until now. If she'd had the strength, she would have smiled with the irony of the situation.

Before long there were more bodies, more heat, more breathing, and her subconscious decided to tune in, recognizing the unfamiliarity. She could feel her brain trying to focus, more or less ending up with a hazy feeling that brought pain. She winced. Other than the strange, cool touch of something foreign and a bit of pressure on her limbs, the creature was entirely unaware of what was happening. Her head lolled onto her savior's warm, fleshy shoulder, and despite an instinct to survive, something within her gave in. Whether it was death or salvation, surely it was better than hovering between the two in the madness that had engulfed her. Anything was better than imprisonment.

And then there was light.

It jump-started a fire within her heart, and immediately, she felt herself gasping, clawing away. She could endure no more, and surely they would continue to abuse! Her body and spirit were broken, and all she wished for was the end of her suffering, whether it was escape or death. One by one, her senses came back to her, only fuelling her escape. There were startled shouts, commands, all of it unrecognizable to her. _Some sort of guttural language?_ The thought surprised her. Vice like arms clamped her down in place, and with her injuries, she found herself unable to break free. A crimson eye popped open slowly, followed by the other.

_Strange._

Aqua eyes stared back at her, bright and clear; the being's face, who now stared down at her, was petite and angular, surrounded by a shroud of beautiful blonde hair. The sun shone it's light from behind it, turning her hair into a golden halo around her head as soft pink lips curled into a smile. Something about it stifled her efforts until she lay placid within her arms. The others - which she only now remembered - stared down at her as well, all with creamy skin and strange clothing. They were speaking to her, and she understood that much. But beyond that, she was unsure of their demands. _So, it wasn't a dream. Do I run? Do I fight?_ Her muscles tensed in response, adrenaline flooding her system and forcing her to remember her training. She'd been here before. She'd done all of this before. That's how she'd managed to survive this long, how she'd continue going on now. The desire to pass faded as the embers burned brighter within her.

"What's your name?" One of them asked, his purple hair hanging down in his face. His question was met with large, confused eyes. He, too, was smiling at her; his skin was of a darker complexion, and his body heat was substantially higher. His energy...It was different. In fact, only the blonde and the raven-haired boy seemed to be of the same origin. The other two had entirely different energy signatures. Suspicion rose within her, and she crept backwards as best she could. She'd never seen species like this before and all on one planet! The blonde lay a cool hand on her arm, which held her in place. What could she do?

_There's no choice. Hold still..._A tendril emerged from the creature's fingers once again, trailing up the artificial skin and near her skull. For a moment, she watched the woman wriggle and yell, before shaking her head in a slight no. _Please, I won't be able to understand you otherwise. _Her mind pleaded, staring into the other's eyes. The ivy began to move again, slowly, and nuzzled it's way into her ear. The one with black hair, who'd been oddly quiet, now sat and watched attentively.

"18, I don't know if you should-" He began in the foreign language.

"I know what I'm doing!" The blonde huffed, although her eyes were like saucers. She could feel the tendril make a connection with her brain, and then her eyes sagged. _I won't hurt you._ The alien's voice whispered into her brain. A dreamy smile crossed the blondes face as their two brains met, and the alien tapped in; memories, knowledge, feelings, all at her disposal. She could see young 18, before Gero's programming, baking cookies in the oven with her mother. They were spitting images of each other, both bright smiles and bright eyes. Her mother sang a tune - a lullabye, 18's lullabye - while the young girl joined in as best she could between nibbles of gooey cookie. _Voice of an angel..._18 told her, causing happiness to form within both of their bodies. She could feel herself smile as she inhaled, practically smelling the chocolate - an odd sensation, having never smelt it before. It then switched, to the days of her transformation in the monster's lab, nothing but pain and anguish. The transformation was tough, and not at all what the snake-like lies of Gero had promised. Things became scarce then, as if she had been sleeping; there were slight images of Trunks, of 17. The killing. The destroying. So much fighting. The hatred and anger and sadness. The loneliness. The boy arriving, glowing a beautiful yellow, and saving her.

And the hope that this boy - this **Saiyan** - gave her. She could see that too.

_Maybe he can give me some, too._

The ivy snaked back into her finger swiftly, and 18's eyes popped wide again, now breathing heavily and staring down at her. This wasn't too uncommon, and mentally, she kicked herself for not being able to warn her. Her people didn't believe in readings without consent, but when desperate times call...

"Wha...what...?" The android began, before the creature placed a finger to her lips. It seemed to startle her, as well as the others, and she recoiled away from her touch. Could she blame her? Linking minds was draining, not to mention reliving terrible memories...Guilt panged in her chest. Imprisonment, pain, killing...these were things she knew. The alien sat up now, giving the andoid her space, and closed her eyes with the effort. _Still too weak._

"My name...my name is Santaros." The words came out of her mouth feeling heavy and dry. "And I need water."

They all stared at her, dumb for a moment, before the blue haired woman - Bulma - snagged a bottled water from the table, and handed it to her with a shaky arm and a lipsticked smile. Santaros offered one of her own; 18 had showed her this woman's kindness, intellect. In all honesty, she was very impressed; but that was for another time.

"What did you do to my sister?" 17 piped up, watching her slug the water down. His eyes remained narrowed, and mouth pressed into a hard line. _Twins. What a strange phenomena. _Everything on this planet was strange; there were plants, this she was used to. But the mammals? Made of...meat? Sinew? The only species she'd ever seen like that were the very people she'd run from. Santaros shook the thought away. She'd seen enough, and these people had done amazing things. Perhaps fate was working her magic.

_Ugh. _The water was finished, and tasted strange, but regardless, she could feel her strength returning. "I connected our minds, to learn your language. I believe it's called...psychometry. Not something I regularly use." She paused, feeling guilty again for having seen too much. "And I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"It's fine." 18 responded coolly, before the alien could finish. She looked almost...embarassed. Her cheeks were slightly flush, and for the first time since she'd woken up, the aqua eyes stared off into the distance. _Odd._

"Amazing!" Bulma butted in, scientific mind finally gushing over what she'd just heard. 18 huffed a sigh of relief as the subject changed.. The older woman's next few words came out hurriedly, melding together as she spoke. "Absolutely incredible! The ability to learn through touch...How does it all work? And what about those vines? And your skin? You've got chlorophyll in you, don't you? I-"

"Mother!" Trunks said, laughing. "Give her a moment to rest, to breathe. She's a being, not a science project. Although, I am curious as to where you came from.." He turned towards her now, leaving the question in the air. Yes, where did she come from?  
>She took a breath.<p> 


	5. (A Promise from the Author)

**ooc:**

**I'M ALIVE.**

**No, srsly though. No more hiatus.**

**I PROMISEEEE. Cross my heart.**

**Life has returned to normal. I am so sorryyyyy for all the waiting, hopefully my comeback will be well worth it...**

**;3**


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